


Dateline Felucia

by Redrikki



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, News Media, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-10 15:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15294483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki
Summary: Embedded with the troops on Felucia, a reporter fromHoloNet Newspaints an intimate portrait of the men of the 212th Attack Battalion.





	Dateline Felucia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



The jungles of Felucia are almost hauntingly beautiful. From a distance, that is. Up close, the sweltering air is thick enough to slice with a lightsaber and biting insects viciously attack anyone not lucky enough to be wearing full-body armor. There have to be more comfortable places to fight a war, but here we are.

Although few in the Core have heard of it, this little Outer Rim world has been the site of near-constant fighting since the war began. Felucia is of vital strategic importance. It sits astride the Perlemian trade route and is the only known source of nysillin, a important medicinal herb often found in bacta. Republic forces were driven from the planet during last year’s harvest. Now, the 212th Attack Battalion and I are part of a task force aimed at taking it back. 

Lead by Jedi General Obi-Wan “The Negotiator” Kenobi and his second, Clone Commander Cody, the 212th has a reputation as a battalion that gets it done. Along with the 501st, they have some of the highest success rates with the lowest casualties. The entire campaign is projected to take at least two months. Commander Cody says they’ll do it in one.

__________________________

In many ways, clone troopers are the face of the war effort, yet few of us have actually met one. The public tends to think of them as nameless, indistinguishable, disposable drones. Senator Christo, the Quarren representative from Mon Cala, once famously said that the clones were created to die so that real people might live, but the men marching beside me now are as real as you or me.

Each clone is issued an alphanumeric designation at the factory on Kamino. By the time they finish their basic training, most have adopted a use name. The troopers assigned to protect me are called Waxer and Boil. They’ll answer to their official designations, but they prefer to use the names they gave themselves.

Every clone has the same face as his brothers, same brown skin, same brown eyes, same black hair, but each wears it differently. They all have a signature look which they maintain with almost religious devotion, even in a war zone. I have yet to meet a clone who does not carry his hair clippers and shaving kit on his person at all times. About half the men sport some sort of facial tattoo as well.

“It hurt like you wouldn’t believe, but it was worth it,” a trooper called Sketcher says, showing off the pattern of lines radiating from his right eye. Anything to be seen as an individual.

Strangely enough, it is often easier to tell the clones apart in their armor. After their first battle, each trooper uses their unit’s colors to create a unique pattern of stripes, swirls, and splotches. Some keep their original pattern their whole lives. Others modify it constantly, updating it to celebrate their victories or commemorate fallen friends. 

Waxer has the face of a Twi’lek girl painted on the side of his helmet. “Boil and I sort of adopted her during the Ryloth campaign, but we couldn’t exactly take her with us.” He gently strokes her image. “I hope she’s alright.”

__________________________

A week into the Felucia campaign, the 212th is caught in an ambush which kills five and wounds a dozen more. Back at base camp, I am propositioned by three men in the space of an hour.

“Life’s short,” says one of my would-be suitors. “A fight like that reminds you that you’ve got to have your fun while you still can.”

Off duty, the clones play as hard as they fight. Sketcher draws on every available surface while his squad mates play a modified form of sabacc, gossiping about every topic imaginable and gambling with money they don’t have. Another group kicks a ball around until someone tunes a subspace transceiver to the Grand Army of the Republic broadcast and a dance party breaks out. It’s not exactly Coruscant club moves, but everyone seems to be having fun. 

As the sun goes down, the air cools to something approaching tolerable and couples being to drift off into the brush. Piles of armor stand guard over the stands of trees where the clones go to have sex. Their distinctive paint jobs practically announce just who is with whom. Waxer and Boil’s gear lies tangled together, but Commander Cody’s lies alone. Whoever he is with wears no armor. There’s only one other person here who fits that description.

__________________________

The bond between clone commanders and their Jedi generals is a special one. The two must work closely together to ensure the success of the mission. Specially bred and trained for the task, clone commanders handle the day-to-day needs of their men and act as military advisors to their often inexperienced officers. Each Jedi knows they can count on their clone commanders to have their backs in a fire fight and carry out the mission if they should fall.

Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi and Clone Commander Cody have been together since shortly after the First Battle of Geonosis. They have fought in the Christophsis and Ryloth Campaigns, the Second Battle of Geonosis, and dozens of smaller engagements. This is their second time on Felucia. In the field, they operate like a well-oiled machine, seeming to communicate entire battle plans with nothing more than significant looks. In short, they are the perfect team.

“You won’t find a more capable commander than Cody here,” Kenobi boasts, clapping the man on the shoulder. “He’s courageous, dutiful, diligent, and has never let me down.”

A grizzled veteran with a nasty scar around one eye, Cody blushes like a schoolboy under the praise. He looks at his general like he set the stars. Clearly, the appreciation is mutual.

“Not everyone can lead men so they _want_ to follow you,” Cody says, “and not everyone can lead men without getting them all killed. When you find a general who can do both? It’s a pleasure and a privilege to serve under them.”

Now it is Kenobi’s turn to blush. With his pale complexion and ginger hair, it shows up well. “We’re both very lucky to have each other,” he says, smiling fondly. “Very lucky indeed.” 

Many planetary security forces have regulations against fraternization between soldiers in the same chain of command, but not the Grand Army of the Republic. Roughly one-twelfth of all clone commanders are sexually involved with their Jedi generals. Cody and Kenobi have been together professionally for two years and romantically for just shy of one.

“It’s not romantic,” Kenobi hastens to correct me. “We’re merely colleagues who occasionally have sex.”

Cody winces at this description, but he doesn’t deny it. He was the one who initiated their carnal relationship shortly after the Second Battle of Geonosis. 

“The general was badly injured in the initial landings,” he explains. “I realized I couldn’t—” He shakes his head, dismissing the doubtless romantic thing he was about to say. “Life is short. A solider has to take what he can get, when he can get it, and be grateful.”

Ask a clone what they want and you’ll get some variation on “to do my duty.” Ask a clone what they _really_ want and they’ll look around furtively before whispering their answer. Waxer wants to see his little Twi’lek girl again and find out if she’s okay. Sketcher would like his artwork to hang inside a museum someday. Boil just thinks it would be nice to eat something other than military rations for a change. 

Cody’s eyes dart to Kenobi and then quickly away. Contrary to popular belief, Jedi aren’t celibate. They’re allowed to have sex with whomever they like, just so long as they don’t fall in love. 

“I’m satisfied with what I have,” he insists.

The sad truth is, few of these men are likely to get what they really want. Waxer will never see his little girl again. Sketcher’s art will remain unappreciated by all but his brothers. Whatever he might feel for Cody, Kenobi will never say “I love you.” Maybe Boil will get his non-ration meal and maybe he won’t, but he won’t be turning up his nose at what the army feeds him. Life is short and the clones are good at eking out every little joy they can find. They take what they can get, when they can get it, and are grateful.

__________________________

As it turns out, Commander Cody’s initial prediction wasn’t quite right, but neither was the army’s. After just six weeks of fighting, Felucia is back under Republic control. For now, at least. The 212th are off to their next mission and I am headed home. In three months, they will be due for a week of R&R on Coruscant. Maybe we’ll catch up, assuming they’re all still alive.

A lot of us in the Core talk a good game about supporting the troops. The owners of 79’s on Coruscant have put their money where their mouth is, offering free drinks to any clone who comes through their door. Go. Visit. Meet the men fighting for you. See just how human, just how real, they are. You might be surprised. I know I was.


End file.
